The 82nd Hunger Games
by airplanes in the night sky
Summary: The rebellion failed, and quite a while ago. After President Alma Coin's 'incident', the president was replaced, and a new team of Game Makers are determined to make this year a good one. SPONSOR SYSTEM ON MY PROFILE!
1. Prologue - The Meeting

There was a meeting held between the three top Game Makers and the President of Panem.

Siberius Marrel was the newest one there. The other Game Makers were more experienced with working with the president, yet they seemed to be no less terrified than he was as they stood in the elevator leading to the president's penthouse suite.

Siberius was twenty-two. He had just graduated from an architectural university in the west of the Capitol, and his active imagination and brilliant artistic skills had earned him a place as the third most looked-up-to Game Maker in the business. Although it was the president herself who had picked him to be on the team, Siberius has never before been in her direct presence. He knew that one wrong move would cause him to be not only sacked from his job, but he might even suffer from an 'accident' that would cause his death, which might or might not be caused by the president.

It was completely tense and quiet in the elevator. Siberius looked at the other two Game Makers. Cerene Shock was a usually flamboyant man with an eccentric taste for fashion. His hair was an electric blue and his eyes were an enhanced bright orange. He was in charge of designing the outfits, weapons and survival items that would be put in the Arena. Cerene was much older than the other two, and he was some kind of a mentor for Siberius to look up to. He was very nice, honestly.

Karman Vethark was the only woman among the three. She was twenty-three years old, just a year older than Siberius. She was a talkative one, always trying to uplift people's spirits. She was the first one to greet Siberius on his first day and has been his tour guide to the place ever since. Her skin was dyed light lavender and her hair was a darker shade of purple. She dressed elegantly but simply, and Siberius thought she was quite pretty. It seemed quite odd to see his two colleagues so quiet and unlike themselves.

A _ding_ was heard from the elevator and the doors started to slide open. Siberius took a deep breath and was first one to step out of the metal doors, followed by Karman and then Cerene. He looked back at them and they each smiled at one another.

"Good luck," Karman said.

"You too," Siberius answered. He looked at Cerene.

"We'll probably be safe," he said. "The president likes us, I think."

Siberius let out a low chuckle, but then his expression turned grim again. There was a glass door leading to the president's office, but the glass was carved into so it was hard to see through it. He pushed the handle and went inside the office.

President Kassia Marron was not at her desk, but she was standing in front of a shelf, her dark eyes scanning an oddly old-looking book. The other two Game makers came in, and President Kassia's eyes traveled upwards to stare at the trio.

Siberius was at a loss for words. The president's gaze was so strong that Siberius felt paralyzed for a moment. She looked like she didn't belong in the Capitol, with her natural-looking dark skin and plain dark hair. The only thing that made her different was her unnaturally bright blue eyes. The intensity of the color made everyone take a sharp breath, and for a few seconds it didn't sound like anyone in the room was even breathing.

Then the president lifted her head up and smiled. "Welcome."

Her shoes clacked against the tiled marble floor as she took small steps towards the Game Makers. "It's nice to finally meet you. Now, I believe you each have something for me?"

Cerene Shock was the first one to step forward. He presented a black folder with the words 'Designs' written on the front. "It holds all of the sketches, rough drafts, examples and a disk for virtual graphic designs of the costumes, weapons, armor, and weapons."

President Kassia nodded and took the folder from Cerene's hands. "I'll look at that."

Karman Vethark gave the president a similar folder, which was blue and had no writing on it. "All of the weather conditions, mutts, traps, force fields and such are in here. I've already uploaded any files onto your computer system."

"I see," the president said. Her eyes landed on Siberius, who was fiddling with a small black cube in his hand. She walked over so that he was in front of him and he handed over the object.

"Just press the red button over here," he demonstrated. "It's a hard drive and goes onto your computer."

The president nodded, put down the folders on a table nearby and took the small object in her hands. "Tell me about this arena."

"Well," Siberius began. "It will be a large piece of evergreen land. Ruins from old buildings will be placed everywhere, and in some of these ruins there are things that the tributes may find useful, such as backpacks, food or weapons. The Cornucopia will be located inside a large, ruined building with an open roof, and the tributes will be in a semi circle around the horn. Some of the exits will lead directly to the forest, or to a bay, or to somewhere random in the arena, whilst others lead to underground tunnels that may end somewhere, or go around in circles. Tributes can also climb out of the building by ladder-like vines that go up the building's wall."

Siberius continued explaining the rest of the details with such interest that no-one in the room could take their eyes off him. He was young and new, yet he had so much potential. President Kassia smiled at him.

"Well done," she said. "This year will be a definite success."

**Welcome to my SYOT! The tribute list and form is on my profile, since i want to do this by the rules. I've tried uploading this story before, but some problems occurred and I had to re-upload it. The rules are here and PLEASE READ THEM!**

**- No 'perfect' tributes. Unless they're super-rich, they probably wouldn't have enough money for Capitol face-enhancing-perfect-skin serums and such. They will have flaws; physically and mentally. And please, no Mary Sues and Gary Stus. If I get one, I will stab my face with a knife and then kill off the tribute myself.**

**- Please only submit tributes via Private Message. I don't accept tributes from reviews. If you do submit a tribute by review, I will either ask you to send it to me by PM again, or just ignore you. Sorry, but rules are rules and I don't want to risk this story getting deleted.**

**- Be detailed with the forms. There's no such thing as too much detail; I LOVE reading detailed forms. If you don't put enough detail in personalities, families, appearances and backgrounds, how will I be able to write in your tribute's POV? You might as well just be saying 's/he has hair and eyes. And arms and legs.' Well, maybe you decide that they don't have some of the above, but you get what I mean.**

**- I'm getting too many girls; seriously! I NEED MALES! There's no real advantage whether you submit a male or female, but I will love you forever. Seriously. But don't feel pressured to submit a male instead of a female, because if you want to submit a girl that's completely okay with me. Just be quick, because the spots are running out fast!**

**- I'd like it if you make a new tribute for this story; if you have this tribute in another _on-going_ SYOT, then please make a new one. Keyword: _on-going_. If the SYOT is finished then feel free to use your tribute.**

**- Have fun! Be creative with your tribute!**


	2. Chapter 1 - The Reaping - 1, 2 & 3

**The Reaping**

**District One: Diamond Shimmer**

_One, two, three!_

The last word coming out of the trainer's mouth made Diamond sprint toward her opponent, her knife at the ready. Seemingly at the exact same time, the other girl lifted her sword and ran towards her. Their weapons clashed together making a loud metallic noise fill the room. Diamond deflected the sword away before slashing diagonally at her opponent's torso. But the girl was ready and put her sword in front of her, making Diamond miss.

Not discouraged, Diamond pressed down the hilt of her knife on top of the other girl's sword. While she was leaning over, Diamond kicked the girl in the shin and she almost lost balance but caught herself with her free arm. She swung her sword and Diamond hopped backwards.

"Nice try," the girl, Satin Jones, spat at her.

Diamond narrowed her eyes, stretching her fingers around her knife. This was her chance to stand up against Satin Jones one last time, after being tormented by her for years to no end.

She ran towards Satin with breakneck speed, and when Satin tried to slash her sword at her, it bounced off Diamond's knife. With her free arm, Diamond used her elbow to push Satin down to the floor. Satin fell with a _thud_ and Diamond pushed her knife through the cloth on her shoulder.

"I win," Diamond said, grinning.

The knife only barely grazed Satin's skin and there probably wasn't even a cut, but she looked shocked. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was gaping as Diamond pulled the knife away.

"Good job, girls," Diamond's trainer said. "You can go now. Reaping starts in two hours."

Diamond smiled before dropping her knife and jogging to the locker rooms. She quickly changed out of her training uniform and into her everyday clothes and slipped on a pair of shoes. She packed her clothes into a gym bag and headed towards the exit.

While she passed the other lockers, she couldn't help notice a group of girls gossiping among themselves. Satin was one of them, and Diamond stopped to listen to them.

"What a slut," Satin exclaimed to her group of brain-dead wannabes. "She thinks that she can beat me up and all that and think that it's _over_? I'm going to make the next week the worst of her _life_."

All of them cackled in symphony, sounding almost like the witches they truly were. Diamond leaned onto the metal lockers as they filed out of the changing rooms. Satin Jones wouldn't be able to make the next week bad for her; she was volunteering during the Reaping today.

**District Two: Raven Everlast**

Raven woke up when a rock hit her bedroom window.

"Hey, Rave!" a voice shouted from the front garden. "Raven! Get up, it's Reaping Day!"

Raven groaned and rolled over on her bed. No matter what day it was, no matter how excited she was to go to the Reaping, she hated mornings, and she wanted nothing more than to just lie in her bed all day. The sun's rays attacked her relentlessly and she held her arm above her head to block it out.

Another rock hit the window.

"Raven!" the voice cried again. Raven opened her eyes and glared at the ceiling. She wished her best friend wasn't so persistent.

She propped herself up on her elbows. Her eyes adjusted to the sunlight and she could see Rosie Maroon standing in her front yard holding a rock in her left hand. Raven pulled the window up and stuck her head out.

"What time is it? Why are you so early?" she yelled.

"Around eight thirty or something," Rosie yelled back, her hand balled into a fist and resting on her hip. "You're late!"

Raven cussed under her breath, or maybe not really under her breath, because Rosie shouted, "Language, woman!" as she dropped out of bed. She rushed over to her dresser and picked out a random dress that she thought would be comfortable. The dress was probably a few years old and felt a bit tight around her hips and bust, but Raven barely noticed as she slipped on her shoes and ran downstairs.

Her father was waiting at the bottom of her staircase, checking his watch. He looked up and raised an eyebrow at his daughter.

"What took you so long?" he asked. "Rosie's waiting for you."

"I know, I know," Raven said, rolling her eyes and grabbing a jacket from the coat hanger. She made her way to the front door but her father stopped her.

"Aren't you going to have breakfast?" he questioned.

"I'll eat in the train," Raven mumbled.

"What train?"

Raven was quiet, until her father suddenly widened his eyes. "Don't tell me you're volunteering for the games this year."

"What other chance will I get?" Raven said, putting a hand in her hip.

"Young lady, you are _not_ going to volunteer. Do you have any idea how dangerous-"

"Of course I do!" Raven yelled. "I'm no idiot. I know the chances of getting killed, but I want to go into that arena. I _want_ to, and the prize of being a Victor will be all mine when I win."

"_If _you win."

Raven sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Dad, we've been over this. I've trained for nearly my entire life, and what good will that be if I throw it all away?"

"You trained to prepare yourself if you get reaped," her father said sternly. "Not to leave your family behind and go to a blood-crazed place where you have one in twenty-four chances of surviving."

"Don't talk me out of this. I _am_ volunteering no matter what you say," she demanded. She slipped her jacket on and turned the doorknob. "I'll see you later."

Before her father could say anything else, Raven left and shut the door behind her. Rosie was sitting on the grass of the Everlasts' garden when she spotted her brown-haired friend walk up to her.

"Took you long enough," Rosie said, standing up and brushing blades of grass off her skirt. She was dressed much more nicely than Raven was. Her dress was strapless and the torso was ruffled, while the skirt was made of chiffon. Raven's was a yellow sundress with an orange patterning, something Rosie cringed at when she saw.

"Ugh," Rosie muttered, eyeing the outfit. "We don't have time. Let's go, you've got a game to volunteer for."

The two left, walking side by side on the pavement towards Rosie's car where they would drive to the heart of the district. Raven wondered if this was going to be the last time she would see District Two, but shook the thoughts out of her head as the engine started.

**District Three: Mecha Cable**

When Cord gripped her hand as they streamed through the flow of the crowd, Mecha felt almost safe.

Although District Three wasn't a big district, it was often bustling and busy during holidays and weekends. Reaping Day was no exception, especially since people don't want to be late and get punished by the peacekeepers. Mecha had split ways with her family when they arrived at the District Square, and she was trying her best not to lose Cord as they made their way to the register counter.

The weather wasn't bad, Mecha decided. It wasn't sunny or cloudy; just nice and warm with a slight wind. She fastened the black ribbon in her hair and they joined the line of children.

"That was exhausting," Cord laughed, standing beside her. Mecha agreed silently, not letting go of his hand.

The line went on in silence, and after about three long minutes the two reached the counter. Mecha told the peacekeeper her name, which the man ticked off his sheet, and he pricked her finger and stamped the blood next to her name. Mecha realized how long the list was and how many papers there were on the peacekeeper's desk, but she moved out of the way quickly sucking her finger to stop it from bleeding. She waited nearby for Cord, and soon they reunited and made their way to the rush of people.

Before they parted, Mecha took Cord's hand and hugged him. She only reached his chest, but it was nonetheless comforting from all the worry and dread she felt around her, and him hugging her back made her feel so much better.

"This could be our last Venture," Cord said, burying his face in Mecha's short, dark blonde curls.

"Don't say that," she mumbled back. She clung tighter to him, before his grip finally loosened around her and Cord took her hand.

"Don't do anything stupid, 'kay?" Cord said, smiling. Mecha grinned and punched him in the shoulder playfully.

"Bye, Cord," she whispered almost inaudibly. They let go of each other's hands and Mecha walked to the line of thirteen-year-old girls. She turned back multiple times, and every time she did, she would see Cord's smiling face encouraging her to go on, and it wasn't just to keep walking forward.

Soon Mecha was stood stiffly in line with the huddle of girls her age and a screeching sound rippled through the sound speakers. She flinched, as did many others, and she saw that Mayor Cecilia was standing behind the microphone. The mayor smiled and Mecha only felt more scared.

"Welcome to the Choosing of the Tributes for the 82nd Hunger Games," Mayor Cecilia said grimly, still smiling. Mecha noticed how she called it the _Choosing_ instead of the _Reaping_ – probably paying her respects to the Capitol. What a pity.

She continued speaking a few sentences, introducing them to the Dark Days for about the millionth time and talking about the second rebellion. Mecha felt a bit sad at how Peeta Mellark, Finnick Odair, Johanna Mason and other Victors were executed painfully in public. Katniss Everdeen had died before, when she was shot in the head during the assassination attempt of President Alma Coin. Snow had also died, and later on President Coin joined forces with the Capitol. Grief-stricken and exhausted, the rebels had no choice but to stand down. Now there was little more of District Thirteen and Twelve but rubble and controlled peacekeeping forces.

Mecha stood patiently as the screen behind the stage lit up and a video about the Dark Days and the Second Rebellion played. She barely watched it, and instead she looked at the faces in the crowd, which she had to stand on tiptoes to do. She vaguely made out recognizable faces when she saw Futura Wired, a tall girl with glasses who was her closest girl friend. Futura was too busy fiddling with her necklace to notice her, but Mecha hoped for the best for her friend.

She continued to filter through the faces, when she saw at the end of the thirteen-year-olds' line, where the twelve-year olds were, her cousin Lectria. It would have been hard to notice her, but Mecha had a keen eye, and she spotted the fidgety and nervous girl easily. Mecha bit her lip as she remembered the promise she had made with Lectria the day before.

It was her cousin's first reaping and she was obviously terrified. When Lectria asked her what would happen if she got reaped, Mecha made sure that she knew that she would volunteer for her if she ever did. Of course, it was a bit of a blank promise, since she knew what little chance either of them had of going into the Hunger Games. But still, she felt jittery and wondered how true she would be to keep that promise.

Mecha barely noticed when Mayor Cecilia left the stage and their escort, Doris Ajax, clambered to the microphone. She had a big grin on her face. It was hard to imagine how you could possibly think what the Capitol is doing is right, but then again, she was probably brainwashed from childhood. Doris looked like any other Capitol person; over-extravagant with the slightest hint of scary, complete with the posh accent. She made it through the entire speech without stumbling over a single word, probably having rehearsed it millions of times before.

"It's wonderful to be escorting District Three," she said in the end. "And to be choosing the children who would be participating in such an honour as the Hunger Games. Shall we begin with the girls?"

Mecha took a deep breath as she took a short walk towards the large, round glass bowl. She never really did like moments of truths, and this was no exception. She closed her eyes and silently hoped as Doris Ajax's hand grabbed a piece of paper and made her way to the microphone. _Please don't let it be Cord. Please don't let it be Futura. Please don't let it be Lectria. Please, oh please don't let it be ME._

She opened up the piece of paper and cried, "Lectria Cable!"

_No. No, no, no._

There was a chocked cry from one of the lines further front. Everyone's attention diverted to the girl; no-one liked it when a twelve-year-old got reaped. Then again, neither would they like it when a thirteen-year-old volunteered.

Mecha felt like crying, but she sucked it up, pushed her way to the crowd of people and yelled, "I volunteer!"

It became silent. Stares. Surprises. Screams. It took all of her courage to go up to the stage, stand next to the escort and mumble, "My name is Mecha Cable," into the microphone. She knew that Lectria was crying and screaming as she was pulled away by peacekeepers, that her mother was breaking down in her father's arms. She knew that Cord would be mortified and doing everything in his will to not cry, and that Futura would be sobbing at the thought of one of her closest friends going into the Games.

Mecha didn't know whether she disappointed them or scared them; probably both.

After Doris exclaimed how exciting it was to have a volunteer, she picked a boy from the bowl named Kayzer Mallet who Mecha thought was either retarded or autistic – nobody volunteered for _him_. He had no reaction, but flinched when the peacekeepers tried to touch him. He walked forwards by himself before they were all ushered into the Justice Building.

They made their last goodbyes to District Three.

**A/N: I GOT ALL THE TRIBUTES! Thank you all so much; it's such an honor to be writing for all these wonderful tributes. I've finally written the first chapter! The way I'm going to write this is in four chapters; the reapings, the farewells, the train rides and the Capitol arrivals. Each will have three tributes in chronological order, and the chapters will switch from the boys to the girls. Next chapter is district 4, 5 and 6 boys. I will also add another 3 chapters before the actual games start to fill in the tributes i didn't write for yet. Sorry that some tributes' POV's are longer than others, but I didn't realize how much I would have to write in for the backgrounds and such.**

**Hope you guys like it anyways! Have a nice day :D**

**~airplanes in the night sky**


	3. Chapter 2 - The Farewells - 4, 5 & 6

**The Farewells**

**District Four: Erik Olsson**

The inside of the Justice Building was unsurprisingly extravagant.

Erik noticed how brightly lit the hallways were, but the brightness was different to that of sunlight outside. It took him a moment for his eyes to adjust. The walls were turquoise with golden accents near to the ceiling. Above the white boarding were paintings of previous District Four mayors, as well as family and couple portraits.

The peacekeepers' boots thudded against the wooden but carpeted floor. Erik was walking to the crying room after volunteering for the Hunger Games – was that a good or bad thing? Good, he supposed. It was supposed to be good when you volunteered to gain respect from your father.

The walk was impeccably long, so long that Erik had enough time to memorize the faces of the people he walked with. The peacekeepers were all strict and stern-looking and there were four of them; three men and a woman. Walking with the woman and a male peacekeeper next to Erik was his district partner.

Her name was Rose Wildwood. She was quiet, Erik could say, and didn't say much even as she was reaped. He was sure he'd seen her in training multiple times before, and she did decently well. Nothing special; she wasn't much of a competition.

Soon they reached the end of the hallway, in which an archway was placed on the walls on either side of them. Erik walked through the archway on the right and Rose went through the left. They parted ways, but Erik wanted to make sure he talked with her again later on the train.

The peacekeepers left him inside an ornately decorated room and he sat on one of the purple velvet loveseats. It was nice to be alone even for a little while; it gave him time to think. About strategies, the arena, the chances, the battles. Oh, the battles – what kind of competitors would he face? Whatever, he knew that he could be able to beat them all, and he could only hope that Odin would stay on his side. He could win this, and even if he didn't, he would be able to die the warrior's death he's always wanted.

Erik believed in Norse mythology. It was strange to believe in religion at this time and age, but after being scorned by his parents for his whole life, confused by the Capitol's mistreatment towards their people, when he happened to come across a bunch of old books on Norse mythology, what else was there to believe in? What other kind of hope was there left? Wouldn't you want to believe that when you die, you won't just fade into a black nothingness? Wouldn't you want to believe in something better, something more worth hanging onto?

When his parents came in to say goodbye to him, Erik's brother Steig wasn't there. Good.

**District Six: Axel Kray**

The bone-crushing hug that Lucia Kray gave her son was enough to make Axel rethink his decision.

"Oh my gosh," Lucia breathed. "What have you done?"

Axel's little sister, Sara or 'Sparky', ran up to them with tears streaming down her cheeks. "Axel!"

Lucia pulled away, wiping the tears away with her hand as she let Sparky throw her arms around her brother.

"Axel," Sparky sobbed. "You- you volunteered! Why would you do that?"

Axel bit his lip at the naivety of his thirteen-year-old sister. Sparky had no idea of what Brandy, his best friend, meant to him, to the point where he would be willing enough to sacrifice his own family. When his hand had risen up from the crowd of hundreds of kids at the District Centre, he didn't even have to think twice about them or the fact that he would be fighting for his life in a week's time. All he could think of was _Brandy_, and how _she_ would die without him being there next to him.

He shut his eyes and held his sister in his arms tightly. "I needed to help Brandy," was all he said.

While Sparky sobbed on and on, Axel's mother was still crying in the background. Her head was turned so he couldn't see her face, but he knew what she would have looked like. Tin lips, skinny face, desperate eyes… everything a prostitute from a poor part of the District would look like. But this time, she would be crying, her heart broken from the fact that her son who she had tried so hard to protect would be taken away from her and surrendered to the hands of the Capitol.

"What will I do now?" Lucia said, her expression sunken. "Axel, how am I supposed to raise Sparky on my own?"

Axel's eyelids flew open like window shutters and he stared at his mother. _Helpless_. That was the first thing that came to mind when he laid eyes on her. She had been helpless from the day Axel was born, from the day his father walked out on them, from the day she realized that she was alone in taking care of her children.

"You won't," Axel said to his mother. "It's only two weeks, maybe a bit more. I'm going to make it out alive, you hear me? I'm going to come out of the arena alive and rich and we'll never starve again."

Lucia stared at her son, her eyes watery. "But-"

"No buts," Axel demanded. "If I don't come out alive, then Brandy will, and she'll help you guys. I know she will."

This only made Axel's mother start weeping again, and he sighed deeply. "Come on, Mom…"

But then the door swung open and a Peacekeeper walked in. "Visit's over," the man said.

Axel bent down and gave Sparky a soft kiss on her forehead. "Take care, Sparks," he said.

Sparky nodded, squeezed her brother one more time and ran to her mother. Axel watched one of the few things he's learned to love walked away, leaving him alone possibly forever.

**District Five: Alexander Burke**

_Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up. What the hell just happened?_

Everything had just passed him like a storm. The escort called out his name. Peacekeepers pushed him into the Justice Building. He had sat in the crying room for a while, not expecting anyone to actually show up. But then there was his mother, walking through the door, wrapping his arms around him and telling him how sorry she was. For what? Not being the supportive mother she should have been his whole entire life? Yeah, maybe.

Alex did feel a bit bad for her, though. She was alone. His father had died, and that had driven her from her already-distant state to rock bottom when she barely made eye contact with his son, let alone talk to him. Alex didn't have any siblings, either, therefore expanding the loneliness that he felt in his heart. But it also moulded his mother into something else, something he knew she hadn't always been; a distant, cold-hearted bitch. Or maybe that was just him.

Either way, Alex tried to show sympathy for her. She was completely alone in the house now, with no other relatives that weren't extended family, and she was probably going to be alone for the rest of her life. Whatever kind of woman she was, Ariana Burke deserved more.

Then she left. All so suddenly, Alex realized that _he_ was alone as well. Maybe not physically; there would be plenty of other bloodthirsty tributes in the arena ready to kill him, possibly ally with him for a bit. But emotionally and competitively, he had no-one. He couldn't emerge out of the Hunger Games with someone else who would be by his side. He had nobody to confide his feelings into, no-one that he could relate to and actually feel affection towards. He was almost as much as a cold-hearted bitch as his mother was.

Never had he wanted more than his mother to stay with him, just be with him, for his father to come back from the dead and to cherish him just like the parents they should have been. He should have had someone to play catch with, someone to run around with and play tag, someone to pick him back up when he fell onto the dirt and treated it all like a joke. But he never had any of those.

Soon, Alex was pushed out of the crying room and into the hallway. He glanced around at the pictures of mayors and the mayors' families, and even photos of contraptions that had been specially created for the benefit of faster energy producing. The new world had turned to renewable energy ever since natural resources began to run out, and never before had technology been more advanced. Well, that was what he thought.

When he stepped outside into the open, he glanced around the empty area. Nobody wanted to watch some poor kid get onto a train and fed like a pig before slaughter. He noticed that someone else was walking in front of him; a girl named Joule Jenner. She was his district partner, but he doubted she would be of any use. She looked hung over and was wearing a crumpled dress that looked like she'd slept in it. But Alex wasn't about to judge. She seemed somewhat strong, and seemed athletic.

Joule didn't even look at him as she was pushed into a car. Alex followed after her, but she just leaned against the window, staring at whatever was outside, looking like she could care less if she died or not. She kept fingering a small pin on her collar that was glowing ominously a little too bright for an unlit place. Maybe it was made from some special Capitol material.

Alex glanced down at his hands. He doubted that he would see District Six again, so he whispered, so quietly that he himself could barely hear it, "Goodbye."

Joule heard it.

**There you go! the farewells in the point of view of the boys from District Four, Five and Six. I put it in chronological order since i wrote district Six before district Five. I hope it's okay to you guys! Also, for you guys to get sponsor points, here are the chapter questions:**

**What year did Annie Cresta win her games?**

**What were the names of the mutts that killed Finnick?**

**I've also uploaded a new story of mine called 'Take What You Want' which is another Hunger Games fic. It's about a girl named Tess and her journey through her Games to get back to her sister, Jean. It would mean so much to me if you check it out! Also, I haven't yet written the next chapter so it would take another one or two weeks before I do. Bear with me :P  
**

**Other than that, Happy Friday!**


	4. Chapter 3 - The Train Rides - 7, 8 & 9

**The Train Rides**

**District Seven: Willow Cerese**

When Willow was brought to the train station, she expected nothing more than the grandest train in the Capitol. Her expectations were met.

Her mouth opened and closed like the actions imitating a fish as she stood before a long, sleek, silver and green painted train that would take her to the Capitol. She didn't want to go inside, but at the same time she did, her curiosity getting to her. She wanted to see what kind of life that the Capitol people lived, the pointless luxury, the wasted joys.

In the end she just stood there unmoving, rooted to the spot, not knowing what to do.

There was a pat on her back and Willow flinched when she realized that it was Tamara, their escort.

"Come on, don't be scared!" she said loudly and Willow stepped away from her. "Let's get on the train now. Wouldn't want to waste time before a journey!"

Willow glanced behind her, where her district partner, Ethen Leawood was standing and staring at the exchange. He'd had his hands in his pockets the entire car ride here, which Willow found strange, but then again it could be just an odd habit. She looked back at Tamara, who was already hopping forwards and through the door leading to the inside of the train.

She followed her, and she could see Ethen following her as well from the corner of her eye. The inside of the train was even more fascinating than the outside, unsurprisingly. The carpet was deep burgundy and the walls were covered in green and brown wallpaper. Willow thought that it could be meant to represent the trees of District Seven.

"Take a seat," Tamara said when Willow and Ethen caught up with her. She patted on a group of armchairs and lounges and Willow chose the seat nearest to her. It was made of dark red velvet, the finest of District Eight, and she couldn't help but admire the colour.

Then footsteps were heard entering the room. In came two people, a man and a woman. They were both completely different, and Willow knew exactly who they were. The man was Leo Forrest. He had won his Games thirteen years ago, and Willow understood why they called him a bit of a loon. He had some crazed look in his eyes, but the rest of his face just looked stone-hard and emotionless.

The woman was Cherry Birch, who probably looked much saner than Leo did. She had dark hair and dark eyes, and there was something about her eyes that made her look friendly and inviting. But as she looked at the tributes, Willow saw a sad look pass Cherry's face. Just because she managed to survive her punishment didn't mean that she wanted others to suffer with her.

"Hello," Cherry said and she gave what looked like a forced smile. "I'm Cherry, this is Leo. We're your mentors. Why don't you tell us your names, ages and what you can do?"

The mentor looked straight at Willow. She felt like a deer in the headlights, under the eyes of everyone in the room, and suddenly felt self-conscious. But she spoke anyway.

"Willow Cerese, seventeen. I can chop down trees, like most of us, and I can probably handle any weapon with a similar weight to an axe. I know how to climb, too."

Cherry smiled. "Thanks, Willow. And you?"

She casted her eyes to Willow's district partner, and she followed her gaze. "Uh, Ethen Leawood. I'm sixteen. I work on a lumber yard, so yeah, I can use an axe. Pretty well, actually."

"Good," Cherry said, nodding. "We've got some tributes we can work well with. One more thing; do you guys want to be trained together or separately?"

Ethen looked at me the same time Willow looked at him. They held gazes.

"I feel like working alone," Ethen said and Willow felt a bit disappointed. He could have been a useful ally.

"Yeah, me too," Willow said, giving a slight lie. "For now, unless I find an ally from another district."

"Good plan." Cherry clapped her hands together. "Alright. Go get some rest; Tamara will show you to your rooms. Lunch is at one. We'll come around and wake you up then."

The two tributes stood up at the same time and Tamara stepped up towards them. Just as Ethen was standing up his hand slipped out of his pocket, but only Willow noticed. Because where his hand should have been were a stump and a few scars.

He only had one hand.

**District Eight: Catalina 'Catie' Perez**

When Catie got to the dining cart at exactly ten past one, there was nobody there except for her district partner.

They had never seen each other before the Reaping that day. Then again, maybe they have, having maybe bumped into each other in a crowd, or worked in the same station in the factory. But still, when Catie looked at Blake Lynx, she saw not much more than a complete mystery.

He was fourteen. Like Catie, he was a volunteer. They were both volunteers and from an outer district, yet there was something in his eyes that told her that he had his own good reason. He obviously had no relation to the boy who was actually reaped, unlike Catie, who volunteered to save her best friend Lavender. Maybe he was one of those strange, vaguely-crazed people who wanted to go into the Games for 'glory and honour'?

Catie approached the table and silently sat across from him. He looked up from his empty plate and Catie noticed his deep blue eyes.

"Uh, hello," she said, laying her arms on the edge of the table. "I'm Catalina, but you can call me Catie. Can I call you Blake or would the second-name basis work better for you and I should call you Lynx?"

"Blake is fine," the boy said and smiled slightly. "We're both volunteers, huh? A bit weird, since we're from an outer district."

"It is," Catie began as she scooped some potatoes onto her plate. "Definitely wasn't expecting another volunteer after me, not even in the next five years."

Blake followed her lead and took bits of food onto his plate. "Was that girl your sister or something? That Lavender girl you volunteered for?"

Catie stopped. She wondered if she should tell him – who knew how much of this boy she could trust? But in the end, she put the bowl of food back in the middle of the table before picking up a fork.

"Best friend," she said. For a while that was all that was said, until their mentors, Vincent Bruschwick and Thalia Amberson, came in. Vincent sat nearby but Thalia sat farther off, more distant than the most of them.

"Perez and Lynx, right?" Vincent spoke up and Catie realized that he was talking to them. Only, he was referring to them with their last names.

She silently nodded and glanced at Blake to see him staring blankly at Thalia. Thalia was staring back at him and Catie wondered what the connection was between the two.

"Do you want to be mentored separately or together?"

"Together," Blake said, which surprised Catie, but she didn't argue.

"Alright," Vincent said. He resumed with piling his own plate with food. While they ate, Vincent spoke, barely caring that he had his mouth full.

"We'll watch the recaps of the reapings after lunch, and then we'll give you guys time to sleep early. We're arriving early in the Capitol tomorrow morning. Your stylists will be waiting for you, but don't worry, someone will escort you to them. Then after about a few hours of preparations-"

"_Hours?_" Catie asked, sounding mortified. She despised everything to do with beauty and makeup, never bothering with how she looked much, let alone _hours_ of having to endure it.

Vincent smiled crookedly as he swallowed. "For the guys, it isn't too bad. You'll just be a bit cleaner, that's all. But as for the girls…"

He glanced over at Thalia, who shook her head. "Painful. You feel like they've ripped half your skin off after they're done, and that's only the beginning."

Catie felt like banging her head on her table, but Blake sounded like he was laughing. Not really loudly, so that the mentor's couldn't hear, but Catie was right in front of him. When he realized what he was doing, he stopped, like he was forbidding himself to be close to either of the mentors. Or maybe it was just one of them?

"Okay, now!" a voice with a thick accent called from near the door. Latania Delone, their escort, clapped her hands as she reached the dining table. "No talking with your mouths full, please! I will be doing the preparations for the Reaping recaps while you eat, so hurry up and I'll give you half an hour at the most. Now, chop chop!"

Latania skittered away and they stared at her in silence as she left the cart. Blake snorted and Catie burst into laughter.

**District Nine: Katrin Arianna Lee**

Katrin generally stayed away from the men on her district team. That included more than half of them, and the only person she was comfortable to be around with was Wesley Vreaten, a sixty-something year old mentor who's seen a lot in her years. As they sat next to each other in the lounge chairs and the others chatted away on the other side of the room, Katrin's district partner Alrik arguing with the escort, she tuned them out and popped a purple berry in her mouth.

The large LCD television screen transferred from a Capitol commercial advertising a washing machine that folded your clothes for you to an intro of the Hunger Games Reaping recaps, the anthem blaring through the speakers. The berry that Katrin ate was really juicy but not too sweet, and it tasted a bit like raspberries and grapes combined.

Caesar Flickerman's face lit up the screen and he announced the long-awaited event. This year, he was co-hosting the reapings with another lady who introduced herself as Charlie Meckendoff.

"Eighty-two years, Caesar!" Charlie exclaimed, her overly Capitol-induced smile lighting up the set. "And more than _twenty_ of those you've hosted! How _do _you keep yourself looking so young?"

Caesar laughed at the compliment, and Katrin noticed that he wasn't as genuine as the last laugh he'd made. "Oh please, Charlie. I've only been on this show for eighteen years."

The other host giggled. "Silly me! But really, let's get onto your appearance. Always in fashion, looking fabulous, hair always different… you _must_ give me some tips."

They continued on and on, and Katrin tuned out of that, too. Soon enough they finished with their personal conversation (which, to Katrin, seemed unbelievably uninteresting even for Caesar himself) and the hosts smiled at the camera.

"First off, District One!" said Caesar Flickerman, and the screen changed to the extravagantly decorated Town Square of District One. Both of the tributes were volunteers this year. A pretty girl, who Katrin believed was called Diamond, strode onstage confidently. The boy was called Danny Jones, and he wasn't much different.

District Two was also all-volunteers. A tall girl with dark hair was what you'd typically expect of a female Career, but the boy was more lanky than muscular. He looked like he was more brains than muscle. Surprisingly, in District Three, there was a thirteen year old girl who volunteered for a younger twelve year old, probably her sister or something, and Katrin took note that her name was Mecha. Then a boy, who to Katrin appeared to be autistic, was reaped.

District Four was another Career district, but they were more humane than the other two. The tributes were a tough Career boy and a blonde-haired girl who looked like she never really trained. The next district reaped a girl who seemed to be hung-over and a boy who seemed to be more confused than scared. District Six was the second non-Career district to have a volunteer, and the volunteer seemed to have some sort of connection with the girl.

It was around District Seven that Katrin began to tune out. Both tributes in District Eight were volunteers, which seemed odd to her, but she supposed they both had reasons. Then, when they came to District Nine, Katrin sucked in a short breath. Surprisingly, she didn't look half as scared as she'd thought. There was the slightest tremor on the edge of her lip as she tried to smile for the cameras. A pat on her shoulder brought her back to reality and she whipped her head around.

"You did good," Wesley said, a small smile on her lips but a distant look in her eyes. Katrin smiled back and turned to the screen once again.

Alrik Oden was her district partner's name. His reaction wasn't as prepared, but Katrin knew better than to underestimate him. Ever since she'd seen him when they left the crying rooms, he spoke quickly in a large vocabulary that she only half-understood. Behind his dull blue eyes, if you looked closely, it's like he's scanning every inch of everything, and he probably is. Right from the start, Katrin didn't want to trust him, and it was unlikely that she ever would anyway. But if he was willing to ally with her, then he would be crucial to her survival.

Katrin spent the last few districts eating the raspberry-slash-grape berries. When she asked Wesley what they were called, she told her that they were some sort of new discovery and didn't exactly have a name. Katrin nicknamed them graspberries.

**A/N: Um. Okay. Hi.**

**Long time no see! Forgive me for my terrible updating times. I haven't really got much of an excuse, other than that I have other story projects which I'm working on and I keep forgetting to come to this. BUT IT HAS FINALLY COME!**

**I've decided to put my other story on hold for a little while so that I get more time to work on the SYOT. I'm also planning to write ten chapters in total before the actual Games begin; first the four chapters that we're on right now, then the chariot rides, then another four chapters on training days and Gamemaker sessions, and finally the interviews. Now, onto the questions!**

**Who were the tributes from District Seven in the 75****th**** Hunger Games?**

**Who were the refugees that Katniss found in the woods during Catching Fire, and which district were they from?**


End file.
